To love, love, love is like switching a light switch on and off on and off on and trying to balance in between the two. It, in most ways, is like fire and rain.
Love is not supposed to be innovated or complicated, not an infatuation or a litigation. It's not supposed to be constantly in the red or in the green, but always in between.
Love isn't about how you feel, but what you do with those feelings. So what do you do? What do you do? Do you cry because you feel unloved by the people you do? Do you lie and say goodbye, so they don't see you cry?
You are milled, drilled, raked and baked to believe love is a good thing; that it makes you feel good, but what if they were wrong?
Frankly, love, love, love can be a giant pain; something to hurt my brain, make my heart ache and break. Why give us such a gift only to make us go a drift?
They say you're supposed to love everyone, care for everyone, but what about you? What do those people you love do for you?
You were a breath of fresh air, you didn't make my head fuzzy it was clear, clear, clear. My heart would skip a beat when we talked.
When we walked it took everything in me to not reach for your hand. Then one day I wish I had because you were gone. Too far from me to know why; too far gone to hear my cry. Just too far gone.
But then I see you four years later and I see you've found a new friend; new girl to tease, a new girl who will try to please you, but to no avail. I bet you loved to see us fail.
I thought what I felt for you was love, but now its an aggravation, a borderline irritation, because the mask you had... man was that unreal. And I guess, so were you.
For most days, after I believed the you I met wasn't real, that you were only just a dream created by me because I was lonely - I finally said enough to the light switch flickering on and off, and on and off, and on trying to balance it in between.
How can love be your best friend, only to stab your back in the end? To watch you bleed? Why do they cheese to see you in pain, give you shame, to basically start throwing shade? Love is pain.
